


Winter Memories

by Ohjeezitsme



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Angst, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Is Gay, I Made Myself Cry, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 15:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17469890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohjeezitsme/pseuds/Ohjeezitsme
Summary: Todd notices how slowly Neil falls appart, refuses to let him alone in his house or anywhere near his father, and sneak of Welton to find an almost dead Neil, frezzing in the stream near the indian cave.





	1. Frosty nights

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so, I may have entered the fandom some 30 years later, but I refuse not to write about this story. I don't have a beta, english is not my main languange and this is one of my first works so please, be tolerant if it's crap (?. Anyway, hope you enjoy! ;)

 Maybe what had told Todd something was dangerously wrong was the agonazing, trapped, terrified look Neil Perry, the brightest person he ever met, had given him. 

  The one who managed to lead a group wherever he wanted with his nonchantalant smile and vigor. Who would look at him with those eyes full of wonder and would recite some complicated line of a play todd could only dream to comprehend fully. The one to whom everybody who was fortunate enough to get to admire him closely, glowing in his own warm light, wanted to cling to him as close as possible, to absorb all the energy the boy could uncounsciosly lend them, being him more than filled with it himself apparantly.

  This same person, walking shackingly and irregularly behind a father who didn't do as much as to look at him but insisted on pushing everyone else from his way, this creature who once could bring time back to life with a grace movement of his limbs and torso, combined with the carefully formulated face of ecstasy, now lay still, passive, stuck in his trucks and caged, craving a freedom he had previosly tasted, and adored.

 

  In the little (very little, he noticed in retrospect) time he had spent with Neil up to that moment, he had sensed manners of the sort this one was in him, but none had been as dreadful as this one. He had recalled those few times Neil had seemed off, paralysed, almost in shock. Those restless and unpercievable ticks in his lost eyes watching the ground, or the wall opposite him, would have costed Todd severe difficulties in containing himself from reaching, touching, protecting at the exact moment he rested his eyes upon them. He ached with his impulses, knowing well that being made public, would cost him lots.

  It wasn't that todd wanted to do inaproppiate things at these certain times (maybe some other times, those in wich he could make sure to keep control of the desires of his body). Not surprinsingly, the most platonically gestures between classmates, and especially roomates, would be questioned in Welton. Every movement was strictly watched, every breath taken sensed. Only in their bedroom, it seemed, where their privacity couldn't be so obviusly violated, were they free to let their guard down, and allow themselves to talk, to grasp, to sucumb themselves into comfort, leaving a whole world of unacceptance behind, only themselves remaining in the universe, free and careless. Even with their little refuge, nothing more than light meaningful words or touches ocurred between them. When studying, Neil would stroke todd's nape delicatedly  when he was reading aloud, probably not realizing what he was doing, or noticing Todd's reaction. Todd would unconciously sit close to Neil, as he had done with Jeff when he was a kid (but this time differently, with more affection and security), and Neil would take advantage of this, never mentioning it, and rest his legs over todd's, his elbows over his arms, or his head on  his shoulder, facing the ceiling as to make it look casual. Neil would throw himself on Todd's arms everytime he had an excuse to: in their room when he got his role as Puck, on the dork during one of his many explotions of adrenaline, on the soccer field after scoring his third goal (this time actually throwing both of them straight to the ground), when returning from the cave, on his back, to the rithym of "Then I saw the congo, creeping through the black, cutting through the forest with a golden track...". Neil would steal his sweaters and jumper, wich would hang off his shoulders a bit, it's sleeves covering most of his hand, refusing to take it off. But nothing more than subtle nothings ever came up. Even when Todd could read the lines, connect the dots and let himself wonder if Neil truly saw him as something more than his friend, as his shy and quiet roomate whith a gift for poetry. Couldn't risk loosing the society, or Neil himself.

   Todd could take care of Neil, could try with all he had to encourage and apprehend him, to bring him to speak up to his father, and to anybody, as Neil so absentmindedly did with him. But that was all that was among his reach. He couldn't talk to Mr. Perry himself for obvius reasons, and Neil's constant rebellion to his father's plans on him seemed to produce more damage, instead of avoid it. Todd couldn't control Mr. perry's reaction to Neil acting without his permission, coudn't (but oh, how he wishes he could) force Neil's father once and for all to understand what Puck's (Neil's) word had ment, to make him reconsider and care about his son's passion and happyness. To acknowledge his constant sorrow, fear, panic. To read the damn signs.

  To listen.

  "Todd, come on, let's go back" Charlie awoke him from his trance from behind, hand steady and reassuring in his shouders, not quite managing to steady or reassure him at all.

  Not at all aware of the movement around him, or of his own, Todd stayed summerged, still agitated from Neil's expression, instincts whistling and mind buzzing.

  It was only when he was sitting on his bed, cold wizzling through his skin, that he realized Neil was definetly not coming back, and Todd found life at Welton without him unconceivable, but that didn't matter right now. It didn't matter that he would go back to wherever he was before Welton. Bck to being unsure and lost. Even when this year has changed Todd for the better, and that will be there even if Neil wasn't around, losing his source of happyness and conffidence. But struggling with his abscence was something, but waking up everyday, for the rest of his life, knowing that his best friend, that handsome boy that made your soul spin with the wind, was gone forever. Todd was scared of many things, but what he felt now was much worse. Neil has always been self-destructive, has always assumed responsabily for many things he didn't have to, and lived with the weight of guilt in his back and the preassure to be what was expected fron him in his throat, all day, at all times. He would try to hide his misery, but Todd could notice anyway. Todd could deny it all he wanted, could try to force the thought out of his mind, but Neil was now ashamed, alone, probably feeling guilty and being under preassure, and he was nothing if not impulsive and brave. It made sense for him, given how incapable he was to stand up to his father, to feel trapped, and to see one only mortal exit.

   For the first time in his life he had something to lose, his constant source of motivation, his muse, the boy who with no notice had turned his life around for the better, who had changed him completely. And he hadn't gone through that wonderfully awful Keating's class for nothing, he hadn't almost choked reading his poetry in the cave in front of the boys for nothing, hadn't run with neil in the dork, risking falling into the freezing water, for nothing. Hadn't risked playful or curious looks towards Neil, hadn't managed to stay firm on the ground when Neil standed more close than necessary, hadn't had the guts to risk a hand through his hair once (recieving a purr in response), to now lay still, waiting passively to recieve a message from him, quietly doubting what Neil would be capable of under his father's glare.

  Staying in the room any longer became unacceptable. He put back on the shirt he had dristractedly pulled of minutes before, put on sucks and his shoes, tugged his coat in one hand and headed out of his room, going to the only person he could think of that would understand how he felt and what he needed to do, hopefully willing to accompanying him.

  Trusting his feelings on the other boy being awake too, he skipped knocking and instead declared, in a low whisper "Charlie, it's Todd, I-" he felt lost for words "just open up, I know you're awake, and don't try to ignore me or-" he trailed off after the door opened to reveal an exhausted looking Charlie Dalton, cigarrette on hand an usual sarcastic smirk on his face.

  "or what? you'll knock down the door? Please do, I would love to see the look on Knoxious silly fac-"

  "I can't be in here anymore" Todd interrupted, "we have to go with Neil, he's not-" Charlie muttered a meaningful ' _Todd'_ but Todd went on "No!  I can't stand risking leaving him there with his father probably screaming at him and sending him somewhere else and knowing as well as _you_ do that he won't cope with  that alone and-"

  "There's nothing we can do about it, Todd! Do you think I fancy being here knowing he won't come back?" Charlie roared back "

  "I don't give a fuck about what his father might do with him" He raised his voice, stilling it seconds later, "I jus cannot let him throught whatever he's going through alone. You know how he is, you know him longer than me, how do you think he can handle this on his own properly?"

  He questioned, tone damgerously abrupt. Charlie doubted for moment, backed away and locked eyes with Todd, expressing concern, uncertainity and defeat at the same time, noticing just how lost he looked and how, he thought, that must be how he was looking at the moment, if not worse.

"Todd, even if you do show up, do you think Mr. Perry is going to gladly open the door, greet you and offer you a cup of tea? Neil just acted in a play, the main thing his father's been trying to avoid all year, and you think he's going to let in one of his friends who not only didn't say something to him, but also clapped the hardest and supported him most?" He paused, being the voice of reason was so uncharasteristic of him he seemed to be a little put off by it himself "Look, I really don't want to get Neil into any more trouble he alrea-"

  "I don't to either, but I prefer that than nothing" he said "I'm not gonna let him do something stupid"and with this, Charlie shot hin a panicked looking glance at him "I'm going to go to with or without you" he declared, not leaving his eyes from his, "are you coming or not?" he asked, impressed at himself for talking this way, without a trace of fear, or doubt. Nothing seemed to be important apart from Neil right now, so nothing really threathened him anymore.

  After a long pause, Charlie extinguished his cigarrette, with a low, but firm "let's go" to wich Todd took as a sign to leave already, but Charlie remained behind, saying "the rest would want to come too, hurry up and help me wake up the beasts"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 4:30 and I haven't slept in two days so maybe tomorrow I'll correct and follow this. Hoped you all enjoyed, sorry for any grammatical error again.


	2. Puck's last vow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil's house has never felt so closed on him before, and he finds himself missing his Welton dormitorie, with that old window that won't open and the scent of Todd's cologne. His father's revolver finds his way through his mind, and Neil has never felt more overwhelmed with emotion, and the temptation to escape his body with a soft click has never been so strong. However, if he was going to die, he'll do it gracefully, giving in to the bittersweet cold of snow and sadness, in a place he loved. "I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life... to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." and so he settled for the forest where the indian cave was, eager for peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. So, yeah, the tags are there but: trigger warnings for mentions and graphic depiction of attempted suicide, mental illnes and self-harm.

Shirtless, Neil opens his bedroom window, letting the cold his his chest in an attempt to make himself calm. It didn't work.

The knot in his stomach wouldn't leave, and his brain felt as if it was going to break his crane any moment now. Everything had gone so utterly wrong, he hated himself for not thinking this could happen if his dad somehow turned up. If his dad knew.

He felt dirty, a disappointment to everyone. To his father, but that was not new, but now things had gotten out of hands and he surely had lost the little respecto or appreciaton his father had towards him. To his teachers, for always being a bit too "emotional and subersive". To, for sure, Todd and Keating, who had warned him and adviced him to talk, but he didn't obeyed.

If not as if talking would have changed anything. Crying and whinning would just have gotten the situation worse.

The thing with acting , appart from the fact that it was something that his father didn't aprove in his plans, that wouldn't help his studies, was that it was a femenine career, and no son of Dale perry was a faggot.

But he was. He had always been. And deep inside, Neil knew that one of the strongest reason his father was so strict with him, the same one that had leaded him to sent him to one of the most conservative boarding schools in america, was because he wanted (maybe under the excuse of thinking it was the best for him) him not to turn to the wrong side. And maybe that was why, among many other things, Neil was afraid to confront him. Because it was true, and indvitable.

  
He had hidden it pretty well for many years, dating numerous women he had little interest in, who almost always ended up being good friends with, but nothing else. Had eyed men only when it was assured no one was looking, had kissed an stranger, just to try, only when he was some safe kilometres away from his parents in a vacation with Charlie.

He had done well in other things he was required to be perfect in too. Having good manners, being polite, quiet when needed to, excellent academicaly, modest, humble. Had helped others.

The memory of Todd's little figure came into his mind for the millionth time in the night, and he remembered sadly the only thing had let himself do. Falling in love, and not only that, but falling for a boy.

He didn't even try to deny it after hearing Todd's poem in Keating's class. It was as if, somehow, Todd has managed to detach him fron everything, only to set him free to admire the charming mess his presencd had caused in him. He was everything Neil didn't think would attract him: Quiet and anxious. But suddenly silence hadn't been as meaningful as now, and Todd's constant nervousness had dissapeared with time (not that it really bothered him in the first place).

However, he hadn't been as brave as to ever try to get closer. Neil didn't want to get in even more trouble, but that was not really it. He had gotten inmensily used to Todd's company, that pushing him away by scaring him with his feelings was not an option. He could conform himself with soft messages, touches, looks. At least that was enough for that moment

But now, right now, Todd must be furious with him. He had lied and then had gotten himself as away from him as possible. He had letted him down, had dissapointed him, as he always did with everyone.

There seemed not to be tears left to cry insidd him, but he broke into a sob anyway. This was it, he had nothing left. He was going to loose contact with his friends, his father was as distant as possible, Todd was disappointed, his mum as absent as ever. He didn't have anything left to loose. He was officially alone.

He was going to explode. He had taken loads of pills, had taken loads of deep breaths, but nothing managed to ease his desesperation. He kept vibrating with anger and gloom, unable to do much else apart from suffering and being alert.

After some minutes, that seemed like hours to him, he standed, looking throught the window. His life was pointless without any of the sources of happyness that had kept him alive untill then. No Keating's classes, no Dead poets society, no Todd, not even Welton at all.

"I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately.. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life,"

He had lived, he had acted, he had loved, from distance. He was gifted with a glimpse of what life really was, of how being truly alive and passionate was, and then all of that was gone. He had been good, he knew, he had seen the look in his proffesors face when he had said so, and knew he had meant it geniunely. He could had been great, but all of that was far away again, back to being a vague dream.

"to put to rout all that was not life"

The miserable preasure and heavynes he felt acroos his shoulders was pointedly not life. Neither was military school, or a medicine career. Having to live under constant vigilance, never being able to love or touch again, was not, by any means life.

Slowyly, he reached his white bedsheet and put it around his shoulders, wearing it as if it was a cloak, he climbed out of his bedroom throught the window, Puck's crown still in his head, and sweared jokingly to himself to wear it 'till the day he dies. The snow burned his bare anckles, as he hadn't bothered with socks, and the fresh wind hitted him hard, making his body feel numb.

"And not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived"

He walked and walked throught the cold, feeling the softness of the snow, shalking from head to toe. His dad's revolver could have been a way more easier way to end his life, but he knew that he couldn't just put it in his head. He wouldn't have had the courage.

This was different. Neil could get lost in the inmensily white view, beutifully mortal to his weak body, while this slowly gave up against the cold. It was calm, like falling sleep, and Neil couldn't help feeling free.

After walking maybe a quarter of a mile, his back was already sore, his legs were starting to not respond, Neil saw the outline of some people in the distance, walking rapidly. He directed toward them without noticing it, and later found himself on a cracking iced pond at the verge of shattering. He couldn't move.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Yeah. The image of an angelical looking Neil in a snowy landscape wouldn't leave my mind, and I had to do something about it. Hipothermia, many say, is the most "calm" way of dying, saying it tends to feel like falling sleep. This has been quite hard to write, having thinked about suicide myself many times. Sorry if something seems odd about the descriptions of the weather, living in south america, I've seen snow just once in my life, and had been very little to remember it. Anyway, hope you enjoy, hopefully I won't be a piece of shit and update tomorrow ;/.


End file.
